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All things considered, Jeno probably should have seen this coming. He’s got the spidey sense, and all that. You’d think it would’ve given him a heads up for something this major.
It happens out of nowhere. One second he’s picking Mark up and swinging him around, the picture of bliss as Mark giggles against his chest, saying something about how well Jeno did that he doesn’t quite catch over the deafening chime of the clock tower. Maybe that’s why he’s caught off guard―the noise overwhelms his senses, hurts his head, prompting him to put Mark down and press a hand to the ear closest to the massive clock face. Mark asks if he’s okay, because he’s sweet and kind and compassionate and every other good thing in the world, and Jeno only gets half a sentence out. “Yeah, Markie, I’m―”
Fine no longer describes his current state as the platform they’re standing on gives out the next moment, sending Mark reeling out of Jeno’s arms as the wood caves in under his feet. Jeno grapples at Mark’s shirt with the hand still around his waist, but with his other hand still pressed against his head, Jeno can’t get a good grip on him. Mark tips over the edge, feet kicking up as he topples off into the open air below.
Jeno panics. His heart stops in his chest, only kick-starting a second later to pump blood through his limbs so he can dive off the ledge and follow Mark down. Physics is not on his side, and he knows this. Mark has a head start of at least a second, and Jeno may have superpowers, but defying gravity is not one of them. If there was any way to reach Mark, he could save them both with a shot of well-placed web, but he can’t make himself fall faster any more that he can willfully stop Mark’s plummet to the earth.
He sees it all in slow motion: the ever-constant gap between their fingertips as Jeno reaches out to Mark, the rapidly approaching earth behind Mark’s back, the fear in Mark’s eyes as he calls Jeno’s name in a desperate plea. He sees the moment Mark accepts his fate, the shift behind his eyes like he knows how this ends. Jeno wonders what expression his own face holds, but he’s too busy frantically stretching his arms another fraction of an inch in a vain attempt to make contact. He shoots a line of web, right at the center of Mark’s chest, and yanks it so hard it breaks.
They’re only twenty feet from the ground now. Jeno should really save himself while he still can, but in the years they’ve spent together, Mark has always told him there’s no such thing as a lost cause. Somewhere between all the whispered confessions and tender kisses, Jeno started to believe it. Back then, Mark was always referring to Jeno himself, back when he thought he was unworthy of his power, back when he thought he was a failure with no hope of redemption. Mark was Jeno’s redemption, then. Jeno wishes he could offer Mark the same now.
He tries again, because Mark has always inspired him to keep trying. This time, the web connects to Mark’s shoulder, and they’re so close to the ground that he can see individual pebbles now. He pulls Mark upward with one last burst of hope, closing his eyes to brace himself for impact.
He’s not expecting for Mark to collide with his chest, instantly wrapping his arms around Jeno’s neck and holding on so tight it’s almost hard to breathe. Jeno’s eyes shoot open, immediately widening as he sees the ground hurtling toward them at alarming speed. He instinctively braces Mark’s head with a hand at the nap of his neck as he lifts the other arm to launch a string of web at nothing in particular, a last ditch shot in the dark.
It connects to something, maybe a support beam, above them and off to the left. They stop with a jerk, the abruptness of the halt tugging Jeno’s shoulder at a weird angle, but then the world goes still. They hang there, Jeno’s feet hovering mere inches above the earth, for what feels like a lifetime. Mark never moves, clinging to Jeno like a lifeline, too shaken to do anything but press his forehead against Jeno’s jaw, breathing him in as he gradually steadies the erratic beat of his heart in time with Jeno’s.
Once Mark feels calm enough to open his eyes, Jeno lets go of the line of web, dropping the short distance to the ground with a muffled thump that kicks up a small cloud of dirt around them. He holds Mark with both arms now, a crushing grip around Mark’s waist, rubbing soothing circles in between Mark’s shoulder blades as he feels beads of moisture drop onto his shoulder where Mark’s face is still buried into his suit.
“You’re okay, Mark,” he says softly, running a spandex-covered hand through Mark’s hair. It makes Mark’s cowlick stand up on end and something in Jeno’s chest swells with affection. “I got you.”
After another round of sniffles, Mark nods. He lets go of Jeno, sliding down the front of his body to stand in front of him. Jeno isn’t sure what Mark will say when he opens his mouth―Mark isn’t nearly as accustomed to near death experiences as he is―but it’s definitely not, “Can I tell you something?”
Jeno would agree to anything Mark asked under normal circumstances, and these are decidedly not normal circumstances, so he nods back. “Anything.”
Mark shifts to put his hands on Jeno’s cheeks, pinky fingers framing the curve of Jeno’s jaw through his mask. “I love you.”
Jeno’s mouth would have fallen open from shock had it not been for Mark’s gentle touch holding him together. He wants to say something―begs his mouth to form the words―but he’s damn near catatonic. Mark doesn’t seem to mind; he’s smiling so warmly at Jeno it hurts when he says, “I think you already knew that, but I never said it. I don’t wanna die without making sure you know.”
Jeno just looks at him for a moment, blinking once, twice. Then he pulls a hand away from Mark’s waist to guide Mark’s hands away from his face, which earns him a puzzled look from Mark but he moves his hands obediently all the same. Jeno uses the hand not attached to Mark’s hip to rip his mask off so Mark can see the adoration written all over his face when he says, “You, Mark Lee, are the love of my life.”
Mark smiles then, big and bright and so full of life, and Jeno can’t help it. He has to lean forward to close the distance between them, crashing his lips against Mark’s with all the fervor of a dying man. Only they’re not dying―Mark keeps Jeno human, and Jeno will keep Mark safe. It’s a promise breathed into Mark’s mouth as Jeno drags his tongue along Mark’s teeth, a vow that Jeno means with all his heart.
Jeno has great power. Mark is his great responsibility, now and forever.